


Bliss

by ladyhoneydarlinglove



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Post-Recall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-20
Updated: 2016-09-20
Packaged: 2018-08-16 04:14:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8086729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyhoneydarlinglove/pseuds/ladyhoneydarlinglove
Summary: Genji loses his faceplate. McCree reacts.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tanyart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tanyart/gifts).



> Written for Tanya because she had a bad day, posted here to aggressively campaign on behalf of McGenji.

It’s cliche, but McCree enjoys watching the sunset.

He sits perched on the ledge of Watchpoint: Gibraltar’s many observation decks, cigar hanging loosely from his mouth. He basks in the last of the day’s warmth as the sun begins to dip, lighting up the sky with fiery reds and pinks, kissing the calm waves of the ocean with orange and gold. Sunsets put time on hold for McCree, a colorful reminder that he can still find some measure of peace, even with his chaotic life.

“Smoking kills, you know,” says a hoarse voice from behind him, light, teasing, but unfamiliar.

McCree’s body tenses, years of conditioning impossible to ignore. He turns with a frown, but it melts away at the familiar sight of Genji, the synthetic fibers of his cybernetic form appearing strangely nude when not adorned with his usual armor. He smiles at McCree as he approaches, making McCree blink several times to ensure he isn’t hallucinating before McCree smiles back, tipping his hat in greeting.

“Darlin’,” he drawls. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Do I need a reason?” Genji responds, rolling his eyes fondly, and McCree blinks twice more for good measure. He can count on one hand the number of times he’s been allowed the luxury of seeing Genji without his faceplate, and none of them had come without some sort of precursor. The casual air surrounding Genji as he approaches throws McCree off, and he finds himself struggling to recover as his stomach explodes in a flurry of butterflies.

“I suppose not,” he answers. Genji takes a seat next to him on the ledge, bumping their shoulders together affectionately.

“Are you going to ask?” he teases, looking at McCree with amusement brimming in his eyes, and McCree breath catches in his throat.

“Alright,” he concedes after a moment. “What happened to your faceplate?”

Genji smiles, the light from the setting sun casting gold onto his skin that makes it all the more brilliant. McCree’s heart begins a rapid tempo in his chest. “Angela’s made improvements on her work since last I saw her,” Genji explains, voice soft and scratchy from disuse. “My lungs and heart are strong enough to stand on their own now. As long as I am not engaged in activity that will speed up my heartrate, I will not need the faceplate to help me breathe.”

“That so.” McCree puffs on his cigar, trying to gather his thoughts, but it’s difficult with Genji staring at him, actually staring, no greenlit visor to which McCree’s grown accustomed. He settles on the very intelligent, “Well damn darlin’, you look…”

“If you say I look beautiful, you are lying, and I will leave,” Genji warns. The fondness in his tone betrays his threat.

McCree chuckles. “Wasn’t gonna say beautiful.”

“Then what?”

McCree doesn’t answer right away. He takes a final drag off his cigar before tossing the butt down to the ground far below, watching as it rolls off the rocks and eventually falls into the sea. He shifts to better face Genji, who waits, head tilted to the side in a way that tells McCree he’s curious. His posture is easy, relaxed. His dark eyes, crinkled at the corners, are full of warmth as they gaze at McCree. His mouth is upturned, wearing the kind of smile one does when they aren’t aware they’re even doing so.

Everything about Genji in this moment is utterly unguarded, and it makes McCree’s heart ache something wonderful.

“Happy,” McCree says finally. “You look happy.”

He leans forward, until he’s close enough to bring him palms to Genji’s face, Genji’s hands coming up to wrap around McCree’s wrists. McCree’s head tilts down as Genji’s tilts up, and McCree’s lips meet Genji’s forehead.

Genji sighs, fingers fluttering against McCree’s arm when McCree lingers. He tugs at McCree’s wrists, and McCree can’t help but smirk as he pulls away, taking a moment to savor the satisfied look on Genji’s face before he swoops in, placing a soft kiss against the cracked skin of Genji’s lips.

He pulls back just as Genji’s eyes slip shut, and McCree can only describe his expression as blissful. It makes him laugh, low and throaty and so utterly content.

“Damn if it don’t make you look good, though.”


End file.
